


taking trouble out of town

by littleconnections



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Ignis is a bro, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleconnections/pseuds/littleconnections
Summary: There is no attack on Crown City by the Empire. Instead there are four young men in a car and a long, long road ahead of them and a wedding at the end. There is friendship. There is danger. There is falling in love.Ultimately this is a happier story.





	1. Chapter 1

The day they leave Crown City is bright and dry. It’s a strange parting, halfway between official and anonymous. The four of them stand in front of King Regis, who sends them on their way with official words, but there are no witnesses, no crowds. Noctis is in a mood, there is an undercurrent of tension and his words are short, bitten off. The rest of them, Ignis, Prompto and Gladiolous bow to the King. 

They catch them again on the steps outside the palace, though the King’s leg is damaged. He tells them:

“I ask not that you guide my wayward son, merely that you remain at his side.”

They agree, bow and wait by the car while Noctis speaks to his father. It looks tense but in the end King Regis puts his hand on the Prince’s shoulder and in car Noctis is a little calmer, steadier. He looks out the window as Ignis drives, lost somewhere in his own head. He gets that way sometimes. 

They are making their way to Altissia, where Noctis will wed his fiancée, Lady Lunafreya, the Oracle. 

They have two months to get there, a long, meandering trip through Leide, Duscae and Cleige. Like their departure the trip is halfway between official and anonymous: a tour of the land by the Crown Prince on the way to his wedding, a last breath of freedom for Noctis before the political traps of his life spring shut. And, more secretly, a mission from the King to collect the Arms of the Royal Family of Lucis, in preparation for what is to come. 

The wedding isn’t the problem. Noctis loves Luna, has loved her since he was a child. Marrying her is a dream come true. It’s what comes after that’s the problem. No one truly expects the Empire to keep their word; there is going to be a war. The question is what the terms of that fight will be.

But that is what lies ahead, the far off storm, still only dark clouds in the distance. For now they are four friends in a car, the top down and the sun bright above them. The radio is on, playing softly in the background and Gladiolus watches the landscape pass by him, the dusty desert stretching out as far as he can see. 

He’s glad to be on this trip. He’s glad Ignis is with him, his best friend, hands calm and steady on the steering wheel. He’s even glad about the Prince’s best friend, snapping pictures in the front seat of the car, his Crownsguard uniform still shiny and unworn. He closes his eyes, let’s himself drift off into a gentle sleep. 

Which is, of course, the moment the Regalia decides to break down. 

It’s a terrible sound, a sort of crunching in the engine and Ignis yells in surprise and manages to steer them to the side of the road where they come to a stop. 

Gladiolus jerks upward, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Ignis voice is tight as he attempts to restart the engine but the Regalia only coughs and stays off. Noctis face is dark, hiding behind his bangs and Prompto seems oddly frightened, his neck tight with nervous tension. 

Gladio looks at them and then climbs out of the car. Ignis opens his door as well and together they make their way to the front of the car where they pop the hood. Together they stare down into the mess of machinery, which smells but doesn’t seem to be on fire. That’s about the only good thing Gladio can say about it because he’s far from being any sort of mechanic. 

“You know anything about engines?” Gladiolus asks Ignis, who shakes his head. He’s wearing his extremely neutral expression of displeasure, which means he doesn’t have a plan for this. 

Gladiolus sighs and looks around the road. There’s not a single car or human being in sight. 

“Great,” he says, “We got no idea what the problem is.”

“I think it’s this,” Prompto says. Apparently he’d also decided to take a look at the engine and was bent over, shifting some cables to the side to peer at a part underneath, “It looks wrecked.”

“You know something about cars?” Gladiolus asks. Out of all of them here Prompto is the one he knows least. He knows about him, of course, Noctis best friend from school. They’d spent time together, the four of them. But it’s not like Ignis and Noctis, who he’s know from the palace since they were all small, who he always knew he belonged with. 

“Not really,” Prompto says, dropping the cables. His hands are smeared with grease and he looks at them in disgust, “I just like machines. And I can’t do anything about it anyway, a real mechanic needs to fix this.”

“Hammerhead isn’t too far away,” Ignis says glancing up the road. 

Above them the sun is beating down. 

“Right,” Gladiolus says, “well. Get out Noctis. Time to push.”

Noctis sighs and scowls but he clambers out of the Regalia and Ignis takes his place at the wheel again. 

“We’ll take turns,” he says, “And I’ll try calling ahead.”

They push. There’s a lot of whining. Gladiolus whishes they would stop and put their back into it but it is what it is. 

Eventually they make it to Hammerhead. 

“Y’all sure took your sweet time gettin’ here,” A girl in short shorts and high boots, her tits practically bursting out her jacket walks over to them, “Now which one of y’all is the Prince?”

Noctis pops up from behind the car, where he had dumped himself on the ground. 

“Aha!” she says, “Congrats on your wedding.”

“Uh, I’m not hitched just yet,” Noctis says and the girl laughs. 

She laughs and they chat as she walks around the Regalia and peers at the car. She’s Cindy, Cid’s granddaughter and eventually Cid shows up as well. He declares the Regalia is going to take some time to fix and the shuffles away as they heave the car into the garage. 

It’s an undignified start of their journey, especially since it turns out they are now flat out broke but Cindy gives them a job hunting down some vermin in the area and makes the promise not to stay out at night and so they start out into the desert. 

It’s beautiful out here in a way the city never was. The desert is plain and dusty, full of low bushes and cacti and rocks. They run over the territory, half a step behind Noctis, who is taking the lead on this the way a King should. 

It’s still early in the morning because they haven’t actually gotten far at all in the glorious road trip and the sun gets steadily hotter as it pushes its way up the sky. Everything around them is wide and open, sprinkled with rocks and hardy plants and it feels like they are the only people in the world anymore. 

Well them and the Sabertusks. They come out of nowhere in the desert, prowling low to the ground and then suddenly upon them, snarling and vicious and wild. Gladio barely manages to get his blade up before the first one’s teeth are digging into his torso but after that first surprise it’s a surprisingly coordinated effort. Noctis warps between them with a sound like electricity and Gladio feels the sweat soaking his clothes and then, suddenly, they’re done and the bodies of the dead Sabertusks are scattered under the sun with them. 

Gladiolus’s been out of the city before for the occasional training-and-camping trip with his father or other guards, at least in the vicinity of Insomnia. He knows what it’s like, the monsters lurking as soon as you take a few steps off the road. The hunters thin them out but there are so many of them and he’s killed his fair share but as he glances around the group he realizes that may only be true for him. 

Ignis doesn’t seem particularly bothered but Noctis face is clouded and Prompto looks a little ill, staring down at the specks of blood on his hands. 

Considering what they’re going to be seeing they need to pull themselves together. 

“You alright?” he asks. 

Noctis doesn’t answer, just gives him a look, all eyebrows and scowl, then turns and starts walking in the direction of their next quarry. But Prompto raises his gaze and Gladiolus can almost see the resolve firming up behind his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he says and there’s only the thinnest vein of uncertainty in his voice. He rubs his hands together to wipe off the blood and then bounds after Noctis. 

“Tougher than he looks,” Ignis says as they follow.   
\--  
They kill the rest of the monsters they find and then Dave sends them on their first proper hunt. They’ve spent all day walking through the desert by now and even Gladio can feel the exhaustion creeping into his bones as they set their sights in the direction of their next target. 

Well, almost because sun has lowered in the sky turning it red. There’s darkness creeping up in the east and Ignis stops them and recommends finding a spot to set up camp. Which they do and Gladio is really, really glad about whatever magical communion makes Noctis capable of summoning his equipment to him because dragging all their stuff through the desert with them sounds like a special sort of hell. 

“I think I have blisters,” Noctis says as he helps Gladio set up the tent. Gladio definitely has blisters but he’s going to slap some potion and a Band-Aid on them and not complain. 

It takes forever to set up because they haven’t really done this before and the tent is different than the ones Gladio is used to but eventually the two of them stand in front of the completed tent as the fire cackles in their backs and the stars twinkle above them. 

“All four of us are going to fit in that?” Noctis sounds doubtful and really, Gladiolus can see his point but he’s not going to be the downer. 

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s see about dinner.”

Dinner is plain riceballs and at this point Gladio can almost support Noctis surly expression, all dark eyebrows and downturned mouth. 

“We haven’t actually bought food yet,” Ignis apologizes.

The four of them sit in their camping chairs eating their riceballs. It’s plain but it fills them up and as the first crackles in front of him and washes him over with heat Gladio feels better. Noctis is curled into his chair like a cat, dark eyes almost closed already. Prompto pulls out his camera.

“You guys wanna see the pictures I took today?” He hands it to Gladio. 

“Huh,” Gladio says and his flicks through the snapshots on Prompto’s camera. There are plenty of touristy shots, scenery and the four of them posing in front of landmarks but there are also beautifully shot pictures of battle and pictures Prompto had taken of them when they clearly weren’t looking. There’s one of staring out into the landscape, brow furrowed in concentration, mouth soft, “These are pretty good.”

Prompto doesn’t quite flush with pride but he looks pleased with himself as he takes his camera back, a delicate shade of pink on the side of his nose. 

“Delete the ones that make me looks bad,” Noctis demands slumped back in his seat, half-closed eyes glittering with reflected firelight. 

They manage to fit in themselves into the tent, though it’s a close fit. Gladio can hear Ignis breathing beside him, on the other side is the tent and beyond that the dark and empty desert. There are daemons out there, he reminds himself, daemons and the Empire, just waiting to catch them in their open jaws and grind them to dust. But the day was long and the fire will keep the daemons away and the Empire can’t search the whole desert and so his eyes slide closed and he gives himself over to sleep.   
\--  
Gladio wakes the next morning when Ignis tries to get up to make breakfast. Actually they all wake, because the size of the tent makes it impossible for one of them to get up without stepping on someone and then there is squawking and hissing and by then Gladiolus reflexes have flipped him into being fully awake.

Breakfast is a piece of toasted bread for each of them. Noctis, barely functional on the best of mornings, looks at it like it has personally offended him. Only Prompto seems to be in the best of moods, snapping pictures of the sunrise. 

“As soon as we can,” Noctis says finally, “we’re buying another tent.” 

They finish the hunt that day and return to their beloved Regalia, which Cindy and Cid have restored to working condition. Prompto insists they take a picture in front of it and all four of them throw themselves into a pose. 

“Say, you boys wouldn’t mind makin’ a delivery for me?” Cindy drawls. 

“Uh.” Noctis freezes and glances sideways towards his friends. He’s going to have to learn to make decisions by himself at some point, so Gladio just crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything. 

“Of course Cindy,” Prompto chimes in. “Anything for someone as beautiful as you!”

Gladio struggles to keep his expression fixed. 

Cindy looks amused. “Well that’s sweet of y’all. It’s in the trunk already, since I was sure you nice boys would do me solid. Now, I need you to take this to the Inn at the Longwythe Rest Area. The man there’s waiting for it, so it’d be nice if you could get to it soon.”

“We definitely will!” Prompto exclaims and Gladio consciously has to unclench his jaw. Cindy gives one last bright smile at all of them and a special one aimed at the Regalia and then she walks back into the garage. 

Ignis steps up to the Regalia’s door and opens it, sliding onto the smooth leather. The rest of them follow and a minute later they’re hurtling down the road, all the land they had crossed with so much effort on foot yesterday sweeping by them. 

“Cindy’s great isn’t she?” Prompto sighs. 

“She’s not interested,” Gladio growls. 

“Hey,” Prompto gets up on his knees in his seat and turns around to glare at him a little, “you don’t know that!”

“She said we were ‘nice boys’” Gladio says. “If a woman says that about you she doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

Prompto’s fine, gold eyebrows pull together in a frown. Gladio’s never really noticed the fine freckles dusting his cheeks. Maybe their two days in the sun have made them more prominent. 

“So what?” Prompto says. “Women only want to date bad boys? Like you?”

“Sure.” Gladio grins. “Have you seen me? Wouldn’t you?”

Prompto’s mouth flaps open but he doesn’t say anything and Gladio’s grin just stretches wider and then, suddenly, the radio is on and the air around them is filled with soft, classical tones and Prompto turns around and slides back down into his seat. Ignis has turned on the radio and when only the back of Prompto’s head is visible over the back of the seat Gladio looks towards his friend and catches Ignis looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Watching, like a hawk and when he sees Gladio looking he raises both eyebrows but Gladio has no idea what he’s asking so he shrugs and picks up the book he brought with him. 

It’s not like he’s wrong.   
\--  
Before they go to Longwythe the meet Cor at a prearranged spot, way up in the north of Leide. In the distance is Formouth Garrison, the fortress left over from the last war and when he looks at it all Gladiolus can think about how soon this will be enemy territory, soon their impenetrable work of stone and steel will be in enemy hands. 

Cor gives them directions to the first tomb of the Kings and drives off again. This is something they have to do by themselves. 

They walk through the desert and crawl through the tight rocks and into the Keykatrich dungeon. There are daemons in here, spawning where there is no light to drive them away. They fight them all and each of them holds their ground. Prompto yelps and screams and pushes through the fear he seems to feel at being so far underground, in such a small, low space. Ignis is the calm voice of reason, the structural center point of their group. Noctis leads them, hesitant but the set of his mouth growing more and more determined the further in they go. 

Finally they reach the tomb of the Conqueror. 

It awes Gladiolus in way he didn’t expect to see the weapon of the ancient King react to Noctis, to see him rise and accept his birthright, swallow it hollow, to know that the power is now inside of him. It feels holy, almost, and it reminds him why he’s here. That for all Noctis is occasionally whiny and indecisive, soft and a little lazy, he is also this. Their King. The chosen. 

It is his duty to protect him. All other things are less important than that. 

But Noctis is still Noctis, even with the power of Kings residing in his breast and he complains about having to camp at the outpost and sleeps the whole morning ride to Longwythe Rest Area and then forgets about the package they’re carrying for Cindy until Prompto reminds him. 

They don’t find out what’s actually in the package because no sooner have they informed the concierge of the motel than Umbra bounds up to them. 

Gladiolus has always suspected that Umbra isn’t actually the dog it appears to be. It’s a reasonable suspicion, Umbra belongs on the Oracle and is way too good at finding them out in the middle of nowhere.

Noctis kneels and pets Umbra, flipping open the red notebook it always carries for him. He’s never explained it but an idiot can see that it has to do with Princess Lunafreya. Apart from Umbra being her dog it’s all in Noctis face, the way all traces of surliness are wiped from it and it’s almost as if his face grows clearer, coming out from behind his hair. There’s a softness in his blue eyes as he writes his own message in the book and returns it to Umbra. 

Loves looks good on him. 

Because it is love, a deep, fulfilling kind that Gladiolus doesn’t think he’s ever felt for another person. He’s had sex with plenty of people but none of them have made him feel the way Noctis face looks as he straightens and watches Umbra bound back into the wilderness. It’s gentle and almost reverent. 

“I know, you’re not gonna tell me-” Prompto begins.

“Then don’t ask.”

“-but what was that about?”

Noctis just sighs and his face is still filled with hidden brightness. It fills out his features, the fine, slanted lines of it and Prompto smiles at him, soft around the edges. 

“You don’t say?”  
\--  
Galdin Quay is beautiful, a deep, shimmering expanse of ocean stretched out before them and, hot and bright. The sun makes the sand glitter and the people are happy and gentle, walking hand in hand along the beach. 

They check on the ferry to figure out when they could theoretically head to Altissia. They’re not going yet, of course. This is still just the start of their road trip but Ignis likes to be prepared and insisted. 

The hotel is much too expensive for their limited funds, so they make their way over to the caravan parked a little way. It’s still early in the afternoon when they dump their stuff and set up, each claiming a bed. Still, it’s nice to stretch their legs after the cramped seats of the Regalia and Gladiolus is glad to settle himself in one of the chairs in front of the caravan and play round of King’s Knight when Noctis pops up beside him with an unusually bright smile on his face.

“Look Gladio! Fishing!”

Of course that would perk Noctis up and of course they have to go. They can’t let Noctis go by himself because no matter what they are still his guards so the four of them make the trek down to the pier. It is, however, the middle of the afternoon at Galdin Quay and the sun is soft and hot, so instead of setting up any sort of guard or watch the three of them just plonk themselves down on the pier while Noctis sets himself up with his rod. 

Gladio sits with his legs crossed and he watches Noctis drop the line into the water and wait for something to bite. The reflections of the water are still bright this late in the afternoon and he squints a little against it. It’s still hot out and he can feel it in the center of his back, heat gathering under the black leather of his jacket. 

Prompto flops down next to him. He’s taken his shoes off and rolled up the legs of his pants, his bare feet dangling over the side of the pier towards the water. He leans forward and delicately dips his bare toes into the water, jerking back at the temperature. Gladio watches him, the pale arches of his feet and knobby bone of his ankle and then he jerks his eyes away and to Prompto’s face. 

Prompto is looking at the water and the sunlight catches the golden strands of his hair. He must be hot because under his freckles his face is slightly flushed. Or maybe it’s the beginning of a sunburn. His expression is relaxed into something soft, pink lips curved and gently parted.

The sun is too hot, Gladio notices. His whole body feels flushed. There’s a bead of sweat running down his back under his jacket, which is kind of gross, so he decides to take it off. 

The movement catches Prompto’s eye and he looks up and watches as Gladio peels himself out of his jacket. Maybe his eyes are tracking the movements, Gladio’s biceps and the appearance of his pecs and abs. It’s nice to watch, if only because Gladio is always pleased to inspire jealousy with his muscles. 

“Geez Gladio, how many protein shakes does Iggy have to make for you every morning?” Prompto asks. 

“Not my territory,” Ignis says from behind Gladio and when Gladio looks back to him he catches Gladio’s eye and raises both eyebrows. 

“Will you please be quiet?” Noct doesn’t bother turning around.

Prompto laughs, but it’s open mouthed and silent. He glances at the prince and then moves towards Gladio, who leans forward to listen. 

“I think he loves fishing so much because it gives him an excuse to sit around in broody silence,” Prompto whispers and his mouth is so close to Gladio’s face that he can feel the delicate brush of his carefully styled hair on his cheek and feel the soft exhale of laughter against his ear. 

A sudden breeze from the ocean makes Gladio shiver and Prompto pulls back grinning wide and dips his feet back into the water, kicking it up with an almighty splash. Noctis yells and Prompto laughs and laughs.   
\--  
The waitress at Coernix Station is kind of cute. Prompto mentions it but he’s definitely right in this case. She’s short, with bouncy rust-brown curls and the hint of a tattoo peeking out of the sleeve of her uniform. She serves them their fries and drinks with efficiency, an amused smile curving her pink-glossed lips. Her nametag says ‘Cara’.

They’re sitting inside, in one of the booths, because the sky outside is grey and steely and looks like it is going to drop a sheet of water at any moment. Despite this fact they are the only customers inside the Crow’s Nest right now. Cara has retreated to behind the counter, wiping down some glasses and then leaning onto the counter on her elbows, clearly bored. 

Prompto keeps glancing over his shoulder as he eats. They’re quick, nervous little glances but she grins at him every time she catches him. It’s irritating. Distracting. Every time Prompto glances back towards her so does Gladio and it’s keeping him from enjoying his food the way he wants to. 

Noctis is taking advantage of Prompto’s distraction and stealing fries from him every time Prompto is distracted by another glance over his shoulder. It’s indecent, someone wearing the Crownsguard uniform shouldn’t be letting down his guard to easily. 

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Prompto says finally. There’s a faint blush in his cheeks but he looks determined and doesn’t even care when Noctis pulls the remainder of his fries towards him. Gladio grinds his teeth but Prompto just slides of the booth and sits down in front of the counter, starting to chat with Cara. 

It’s miserable to watch. He’s terrible at flirting, can’t bring himself to look her in the eye properly and the blush is spreading over his face. He’s talking to her about the weather, for goodness sake. At their table Gladiolus can hear Ignis talking but he doesn’t listen to it, too focus on watching the train wreck unfolding in front of him. He’s telling her about Noctis’s terrible driving now. She seems amused but objectively this is horrible. 

“Someone needs to show him how it’s done,” Gladio cuts Ignis off midsentence and slides out of the booth. He strolls over to the two of them and leans up against the counter, making sure his tattooed forearms are displayed to their best advantage. 

“Hi,” he says and smiles, “I’m Gladiolus.”

“Cara,” she says and her eyes are dancing with amusement. 

“I’m Prompto,” Prompto chimes in. He hadn’t even introduced himself properly. 

“So Cara,” Gladio says. “We’re just passing through but what do you like to do around here?”

He holds eye contact and smiles again, the nice one. She laughs a little and Gladio can feel Prompto scowling at him but he doesn’t let himself get distracted by it. Attention is key. 

“Well there’s the Alstor Slough but other than that not much,” Cara says. “We do have a couple of open hunts if you’re interested?”

“We are actually,” Ignis says, appearing at Gladio’s side. “Thank you. Gladio, Prompto, we should really get going.”

Prompto gives a wave and Gladio winks at Cara, which actually causes her to laugh out loud and then the two of them make their way out to the car while Noctis selects their hunt. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Prompto complains. “We were getting along really well!”

“You were failing miserably,” Gladio says and leans down to check how much gas they still have.

“Well yeah, when you showed up,” Prompto leans against the side of the Regalia. “You’ve got that look going.”

Gladio can’t stop the pleased smile from spreading across his face. He is very good looking.   
\--  
“Listen Noct, I know you’re like, in charge of this operation,” Pompto says, “but please, I am begging you, can we go see the Chocobos?”

Noctis’s head jerks up from whatever reverie he was in and he looks almost startled at the sign they are passing for the second or third time today, pointing them towards ‘Wiz Chocobo Farm’. It would almost be infuriating if the expression didn’t make Gladio want to laugh so much. 

“Yeah, sure,” Noct says and Ignis spins the wheel and they turn the corner and are on their way. 

Wiz is small man with a large belly who asks them what they want to eat and tells them about the birds as he serves them their sandwiches. Prompto isn’t sitting with them at the table yet; he’d leapt straight from the car and gone to the Chocobos stabled near the restaurant. He’s petting one right now, scratching its feathers right under its jaw and whispering to it. 

The sandwiches Wiz places in front of them are stacked high and Ignis looks at them with the intense expression that Gladio knows means he’ll try to recreate this for them later at camp. Wiz places a fourth sandwich in front of Prompto’s empty spot. 

“I’ll go get him,” Gladio says, the words out of his mouth before anyone else can even comment. He swings himself out of the seat, which as always is much too small for a dude his size, and strolls over to the pens. 

“Aren’t you pretty,” Prompto is murmuring to the bird. “You’re a good girl aren’t you? Yes you are.”

“Is that why you make your hair look like a chocobo’s butt?” Gladio reaches up to flick a finger against the highest piece of Prompto’s styled hair. “Cause you love them so much?”

Prompto squawks in indignation, either at the insult to his hair or the fact that Gladio would even attempt to mess with it. 

Gladio’s laugh is a low rumble in his chest and he reaches out to pet the Chocobo Prompto had just been petting. She really is a beauty, fixing him with one large, amber eye. There is a sharp look in them, as if she’s judging him for something. 

“Aren’t they great?” Prompto grins. “Do you think we can rent some? They’d be really useful, getting places where the Regalia can’t go and everything!”

There’s a catch in Gladio’s throat and his hand on the Chocobo slows down. Prompto’s grin is wide and sharp, the enthusiasm spread so openly on his face and the sun chooses that exact moment to peak around the clouds and hit him with a ray of sunshine, making him glow golden. 

“Uh,” he says, “um. Yeah, uh, yeah, we-”

“Prompto! Gladio! We want to eat!” Noctis is not a loud person but the look on his face is like thunder, fine black eyebrows drawn together in a murderous glare. 

“Uh-oh.” Prompto laughs. “Looks like his highness getting grumpy from hunger!” 

Then he bounds off, leaving Gladio standing with his hand on the Chocobo. The bird meets his eye again when he looks at her and the look in it is exactly the same as the one Ignis is wearing when Gladio gets back to the table. Gladio doesn’t know what either of them mean.   
\--  
Gladiolus is spread out over his bed, head propped up by his pillow as he peruses the book propped up on his knee. They’re finally in Lestallum and for once they each have a separate room, so he’s using the chance to get through one of the denser books he decided to bring with him. It’s interesting and philosophical and in about two more pages he’s going to have enough of it and put it down to go to sleep. 

He doesn’t even look up as Ignis enters his room and closes the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

Gladiolus is instantly hyper alert because Ignis looking this serious properly means some shit went wrong with their planning and something is going to derail the trip. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, swinging himself up into a sitting position, “Something happen with the Regalia?”

Ignis frowns and gestures for him to stay down, which probably means that whatever it is isn’t too serious so Gladiolus sits on the side of the bed, bare feet scratching across the rough carpet. Ignis pulls up the single chair in the room and settles himself into it, leaning forward, elbows perched on his knees, forearms on display.

“Nothing’s wrong with the Regalia,” Ignis says, “There’s no problem. I wanted to talk about you.”

Gladiolus frowns at him, “What?”

“Well, about you and Prompto,” Ignis amends. 

He still doesn’t get it, wracks his brains. It’s not like anything’s been different between him and Prompto. He hasn’t done anything or yelled at him or even said particularly judgmental, he doesn’t think. Just the normal stuff, but he does that to Noctis too. More even, because Noctis is going to be King, he needs to pull himself together. 

Ignis is still looking at him intently over his glasses, like he’s waiting for Gladio to put two and two together but he has no idea what his friends is talking about so he just shakes his head at him. Ignis sighs. It’s his put upon sigh, the one he makes when he is literally the only person who understands anything. Except usually Gladio isn’t the one being sighed at, so he frowns at him. 

“So when did you decide you wanted to fuck Prompto?” Ignis says. 

And that’s. That’s not. Gladiolus doesn’t even know how to respond to that. 

“It’s just,” Ignis continuous, “you know what he’s like. He gets so into things. I don’t want him to-“

“The fuck, Iggy, I’m not trying to fuck Prompto,” Gladiolus interrupts him, “The hell?”

And now Ignis’s eyebrows are up, “Oh?”

“No? What the hell gave you that idea?”

“Ah,” he adjusts his glasses, “Well you have been…flirting with him, I would say. Posturing. Trying to steal any woman he expresses interest in. And then the teasing. It does seem a bit-“

“Yeah, well,” he grunts because what does Ignis know, “I’m not. It’s not like that.”

“Right.” Ignis pauses, “Well it seems then we don’t need to talk after all. Good night, Gladio.”

“Night, Iggy,” he watches as Ignis puts the chair back into its original position by the wall and heads for the door. There he pauses, knob in hand and turns back to him.

“I just want to say,” he says, “if you do find yourself in the position of wanting to sleep with Prompto, then please be very clear with him on what exactly it is that you are looking for. Anything else would be exceedingly unkind.”

And then he leaves before Gladiolus can think of a proper response to that. 

Which, whatever. Ignis is wrong; he doesn’t want to fuck Prompto. 

Gladiolus rolls back onto the bed and tries to go to sleep. Can’t, of course. 

Thanks Iggy.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Gladiolus has mercifully forgotten Ignis question. Everything is on autopilot: shower, brush teeth, get dressed. He meets his friends for breakfast, sitting himself down at one of the small tables in front of the motel. Noctis is there, clearly not ready to speak yet and mechanically shoveling cereal into his mouth. 

Gladiolus pours himself a cup of coffee, adds sugar and deposits a piece of bread on his plate. He’s debating whether to add jam or cheese when Prompto sits down next to him. 

For a long moment it doesn’t even register for Gladio and he just keeps staring at the jar of strawberry jam. Prompto starts making his own breakfast, pouring juice and picking up fruit that he starts cutting up on his plate. He’s humming under his breath as if he knows that talking to either Noctis or Gladio is useless but he can’t contain all desire to communicate. 

Gladio’s eyes follow Prompto’s hand, long fingered and with his usual band around his wrists. His arms are slender and wiry and then Gladio is looking at Prompto’s narrow face, the wide mouth and straight, freckly nose. Gladio looks and looks and then turns back to the breakfast table and starts putting cheese on his toast. 

The putter around Lestallum for the day. It’s…interesting. Sweltering and loud, the air is full of the smell of food and the chatter of people. Everywhere there are people, gawking at them, at Noct, smiling waving. They shop, Ignis getting rare spices that apparently they can’t find anywhere else and Prompto upgrades his guns. Gladio watches him as he twirls the new ones experimentally before tucking them away. 

It’s when they leave the market and are wandering vaguely in the direction they parked the Regalia that they bump into a woman with long silver-blond hair and a black leather outfit that must be uncomfortable in the heat. She stops just before they actually hit her, wide eyes sweeping over them with a little too much recognition. Beside Gladio Ignis goes tense.

“Empire,” he hisses 

“Well, hello there,” she says, smirking and now Gladiolus knows her too. He’s reviewed the information on the Empire and this is definitely Aranea Highwind, Captain of the Third Army Corps. 

“What are you doing here?” Noctis growls. His posture is stiff but he’s standing tall, slender shoulders squared and head raised to meet her gaze. “This isn’t your territory.”

“I’m a tourist,” Aranea says. They don’t believe her and she doesn’t expect them too. “Did you think the Empire doesn’t know where you are Prince Noctis? You and your slutty beefcake bodyguard.” her eyes flick towards Gladiolus, “The scientific mastermind. And…whoever you are.”

Her eyes land on Prompto and Prompto’s face is frozen, a smile half completed on his lips and Gladiolus feels the fury rise up inside him, uncoiling like a snake to rise but before he can use it Noctis speaks. 

“Prompto is the best man on our team.” His voice is cold as chipped ice and Aranea grins at him, all sharp edges. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” she says. “But I am actually not being paid for this so- ta for now. I’ll see you at your wedding sweet Prince.”

“Fuck you,” Noctis spits and pushes past her, storming off in the direction of the Regalia and then past it, out onto the observation platform. He keeps walking until they’re at the railing, standing over the sheer drop and the beautiful, beautiful view of the Disc of Cauthess in the distance. 

Noctis face is a mask of anger, the kind that sits in the line of his straight brows and the flat corners of his mouth. His hands are balled to fists. He’s not shaking but everything about him is tight and wound.

“They have no right to be here,” he says, “It’s not theirs.”

Yet, he doesn’t say. 

“They’re not even well informed,” Gladio says. He’s looking at Prompto, whose face is still weirdly slack, like he’s trying to put together an expression but can’t quite manage. “Calling Iggy a mastermind. As if that’d be true.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Ignis says. “I thought ‘slutty beefcake’ was a pretty accurate description of you.”

Gladio doesn’t think it’s funny but Ignis’s smile is sly and after a moment Prompto’s frozen expression breaks and Noctis frown loosens and all three of them burst into laughter. Galdio crosses his arms and scowls at them but they don’t stop. It’s a circle, every time one gets close another one starts them up again, each round of laughter more hysterical than the last. It’s not funny but it’s worth it, the relief that floods every corner of his body as he watches the tears gather in Prompto’s eyes, trying to breathe around his laughter. 

“Do you think their report has an interests section?” Noctis wheezes. “Likes: push-ups and hotties.”

And that sets them off again.

When they finally stop it’s not good yet but the tension has loosened a little and Prompto’s smile sits easy on his face again. 

“Guess they don’t think they need to worry about the photographer, huh,” he says and it’s only a little strained. 

“Whatever,” Gladio says and slings an arm around Prompto’s neck, “That just means they have no idea how dangerous you are. Our secret weapon.”

He only wanted to cheer Prompto up a little but the smile he gets in return, a bright, tilting thing, makes his mouth go a little dry and he removes his arm again. 

“Did you say photographer?” Someone behind them speaks up and they turn around. It’s a fat man fanning himself with brochure, wild hair tied back into a pony tail. 

“My name is Vyv,” he introduces himself. “I’m a journalist and I’m looking for someone to take someone to take some pictures for an article I’m writing. Would you be up for that?”

Noct glances at Prompto, who half-shrugs then nods. 

“Sure,” Noctis says, “Prompto will take the best pictures you’ve ever seen.”  
\--  
It’s not until they’re taking off into the Kelbass Grasslands to hunt for the Griffon that Gladio remembers Ignis question from the day before. He’s looking at Prompto’s back despite the fact that there are branches hitting him in the face from the low trees the two of them are weaving through in an unofficial race. Noctis and Ignis are taking their birds around the outside of the small grove, longer but without the danger of being whipped in the face by a branch. 

Posturing Ignis had said. 

Gladio doesn’t falter but he doesn’t push his chocobo quite as fast and when they burst out of the grove Prompto whoops and looks back over his shoulder. His eyes are small because of his smile and he’s breathless as they slow their chocobos and wait for Ignis and Noctis to reach them. 

Gladio catches Ignis eye as he rides up. His friend’s expression is schooled to careful neutrality but his eyebrows are raised just a hair’s breadth. ‘See what I mean?’ they seem to say and Gladiolus scowls at him. Ignis is wrong. 

He’s looking out for Prompto. Someone needs to, he’s not like Ignis and himself, trained all his life to protect the crown. He’s just a kid really. Noctis’s best friend. Someone needs to make sure that he doesn’t hurt himself, needs to push him into better form. He can do better, Gladiolus knows he can. Prompto just needs the right motivation. Which is what Gladiolus is providing.  
\--  
So he ignores what Ignis said. There are plenty of other things he can focus on. They find a ruin in the woods, empty of the Greatsword of the Tall that should have been there. 

Once they’re on the road between Old Lestallum and Burbost and a warship of the Empire passes along over their heads. It’s too far away for them to make out any details but they pull over and all four of them follow its progress across the otherwise empty sky until it has disappeared somewhere in the horizon. Gladio tries to triangulate where they could be going in his head. 

“Maybe they wanted to take a look at their new lands,” Ignis says and the tone is unexpectedly bitter for him. 

“It’s not theirs,” Noctis says, as he had back in Lestallum. 

But it will be soon enough. When Noctis is married all these lands will be ceded to the Nifelheim Empire. Only Insomnia, the Crown City, will still be under the Lucis control. Most of the time they can forget the oppressive political forces crowding around them. Outside of Insomnia it almost seems far away but something always comes up and reminds them. 

Still Gladiolus catches himself just looking at Prompto. 

Not doing anything else, just looking. He won’t be doing anything in particular at all, watching the landscape in the Regalia, feeding his Chocobo, watching Noctis fish and then his eyes are wandering towards Prompto. 

He’s pretty, Gladio will admit that. There’s something delicate about him and it’s not just that he’s more than a head shorter than Gladio. Most people are shorter than Gladio, he’s used to it. But Prompto is narrow, too his face and his wide, thin mouth and the straight nose. 

Or maybe it’s the freckles and the pale skin. Gladio gets distracted by them, the splashes across Prompto’s nose and cheekbones, the smattering he can see on his shoulders when he changes his clothes in camp. His skin flushes easily, with heat and embarrassment and in the mornings when he hasn’t slept well his eyes look almost bruised.

Noctis is pale too, probably paler, but not like this, not like you can see through him. 

So Prompto is pretty. That’s fine. There are pretty people everywhere, doesn’t mean Gladiolus wants to sleep with them.   
\--  
It’s the rain that gets him. It always rains like this near the Malmalam Thicket; one minute it will be sunny and then the sky will open up and there will be a downpour. It always catches them when they’re out with their chocobos, weaving in between wild animals and trying not to attract their attention. 

“Shit,” Noctis yells when the first drops come down because they know what that means by now. In a minute or so they’ll be wet to the bone. Gladio sees Iggy eyeing the sun with a frown; it’s far too low in the sky already they need to set up some shelter somewhere soon. 

“We passed a good spot like a mile back,” Gladio tells him and Ignis nods. The rain is already starting to come down faster, sharp little points digging into the bare skin of Gladiolus’s arms. It’s going to be that kind of weather. 

Noctis is stopped and listening to them, casting miserable glances up at the sky. When Ignis wheels his chocobo he follows right behind and then Prompto follows, Gladio brings up the rear. The rain gets stronger and within minutes Gladio is drenched, rain seeping into all his clothes to reach his skin. It’s hard to see but he can’t raise his hands from the reins to wipe the water away so he can feel the rain running down over his face and into the collar of his jacket. 

It’s cold as fuck. 

“Let’s get out of this!” Prompto yells. His shoulders are hunched up around his ears, water sodding down his carefully structured hair. Further in front Ignis and Noctis are low over the necks of their chocobos, the birds’ feet blurring as they cover ground. 

It doesn’t actually take long to get to the potential campsite but it’s a miserable time and they are wet as can be when they reach it. They leap off their birds and when they land Gladiolus notices that the ground around the elevated platform has turned into squelching mud. It’s all over his shoes. 

The chocobos pause next to them for a moment, then take off into the distance, apparently deciding to look for shelter on their own tonight. Noctis sighs as he watches them run, then turns to the platform and begins climbing. Ignis follows and then Prompto. 

The rock is wet and slippery and a little steep. Noctis makes it to the top and disappears over the lip. Ignis is making his way, slow and methodical and Prompto-

Prompto slips. 

He steps on a little piece of rock and somehow, with the rain and the weight the rock breaks off and in the surprise Prompto loses his grip and slides down to the bottom again.

Gladio has trained as a bodyguard since he was ten years old. It’s mostly instinct that make his arms snap up and catch Prompto, steadying him and keeping him from falling on his ass in the mud. 

There wasn’t any real danger, not unless Prompto fell very, very badly but Gladio’s heart is beating stupidly fast in his chest as his hands curl around Prompto’s wiry arms. They feel surprisingly strong under his fingers, wet like everything else and Prompto looks up at him, rivulets of water trailing over his cheeks and the strands of his hair plaster to his face. It’s lost all its structure, weighed down with the rain. 

“Thanks,” he says and Gladio nods.

“Be more careful,” he growls and follows a drop that’s trailing down the side of Prompto’s nose and to the corner of his mouth with his eyes. Prompto’s blue eyes are flicking from side to side and his tongue darts out quickly from between his lips, catching the drop. 

He wants to put his mouth on Prompto, to follow the drop of rain trailing down his neck with his tongue. He wants to bite his skin and suck his tongue into his mouth. He wants to fuck him open, slow and sweet. 

He is so fucked. 

“Hey, are you coming?” 

The two of them look up and Gladio can barely make out the top half of Noctis’s face, the surly line of his eyebrows over the dark eyes. For a moment he scowls down, the pulls back and disappears. 

“Coming!” Prompto yells and pulls out of Gladio’s grasp because Gladio was still fucking holding on to him and then he scrambles up the side of the rock. 

For a moment Gladiolus just stands there, feels the weight of his wet hair on his neck and the stickiness of his clothes on his skin and begs for blessed ignorance. Then he sighs and climbs the platform.   
\--  
Gladiolus has already slid into his seat in the Regalia when he hears Ignis say, “Oh Prompto, would you mind sitting in the back with Gladio today? There are some pointers I wanted to give Noct.”

“I can drive!” Noctis exclaims and while that might be technically true the last time he had been behind the wheel the side of the Regalia had also been scratched up so badly they needed to take her back to Hammerhead and Cindy had almost beheaded them so Prompto laughs and Gladio snorts.

He does glare at Ignis though when Prompto actually slides into the seat next to him and the car suddenly seems much smaller than when Noctis is sitting next to him. Ignis looks back at him and on anyone else Ignis expression would be call delicate smirk. For Ignis it’s practically a shit-eating grin. 

Gladiolus buries himself into his book and tries to ignore the situation. Except he can’t, for multiple reasons. One is Noctis driving, which is definitely more stop-start than Ignis smooth glide and the other…

The other is Prompto of course. Prompto is twitchy next to him, the way he’s always twitchy. Poking Noct in the back of the head, leaning forward to have a conversation with Ignis, hanging over the side of the car snapping pictures. He’s chatty, which Gladiolus knew of course but also…he touches him. Pokes him in the shoulder to get his attention to point out a mountain to him, tries to take a selfie of them. Even when they’re sitting still it seems like he’s closer than Noct would be, his knee bumping into Gladiolus’s though he moves it away again every time. 

It makes Gladio want to reach out and touch him, still his movements, run his fingers over his skin. Or to feel his movements pressed against him, straining, panting. He shouldn’t be thinking about his friend like this, maybe, but the thoughts are there when Prompto pokes him in the side and leans across him to look at something, their arms brushing against each other. So he lets himself, reaches up a hand to steady Prompto, innocent and easily brushed off except for the way Ignis’s smirk widens just a little.   
\--  
Prompto and Noctis are horsing around the way they sometimes do, as if they’re ten and not twenty. There’s literal rolling around on the ground together, jabbing elbows. Gladio is sitting in one of the camping chairs, next to the small table Ignis is using to prepare dinner. He watches them, slender, boyish limbs tangling and the sharp, breathless laughter. 

“You were right, by the way,” he says to Ignis. It’s a reluctant growl.

“Hm.” Ignis is chopping a sweet potato with careful movements. “Yes, I usually am, but what about in particular?”

“I do wanna fuck Prompto.”

And Ignis can be such a shithead because the look he gives him over his glasses is nothing short of smug but all he says is: “do you now?”

“I blame you,” Gladio says. “Hadn’t even thought about it and then you brought it up and now I’m in the shit.”

“Oh yes,” Ignis says, “in that case should I just suggest someone else for you to be attracted to? Aranea perhaps? She did refer to you as a ‘slutty beefcake’ after all.”

Gladio groans and buries his face his hands, palms pressing into his eye sockets. He doesn’t want to be reminded of that ever again, please, and here are his friends, constantly bringing it up. 

“So is there a reason you’re telling me?” Ignis asks as he finishes the sweet potato and start on the mushrooms, “Would you like some advice?”

Gladio glares at him, “No. Nothing. I want nothing from you. I just thought you’d wanna know. Since, you know, you like being right so much.”

“I do enjoy that,” Ignis says as he dumps the sweet potato and mushrooms into the stew and starts adding spices.

“Enjoy what?” Prompto says having disentangled himself from Noct, who is holding his side groaning something about cheating. Prompto pops a leftover piece of mushroom into his mouth, which must be gross but Gladio can’t look away from it, the delicate pink of his lips and the way he’s flushed, splotchy under his freckles. 

“Being right,” Ignis tells Prompto and taps him on the hand with the cooking spoon, “Wait for dinner. Is your tent even set up yet or have you spent the whole time horsing around with Noct?”

Prompto laughs, wide and loose, closing his eyes with it. He moves away, trying to harangue Noctis into helping him but the Prince just gives him the finger from where he’s lying on the ground. Gladio’s gaze follows him for a moment before he tears himself away to look back at Ignis. The look in Ignis’s eyes is excessively kind and Gladio hates to think of what kind of impression he’s making if he deserves that.   
\--  
The Titan calls for Noctis. The Titan calls and they go and the Titan wakes. 

It wakes and it is so impossibly huge and strange and its movements are slow-slow-quick, faster than you’d think by looking at it. Gladiolus throws himself in front of Noctis and they run. 

Noctis fights the Titan. They all fight the Titan. The Empire appears to fight the Titan. 

It seems impossible that they would win. The Titan is a God and to fight it is to fight the holy. But Gladiolus knows he can’t let Noctis die so he fights. He fights the impossible, the stone giant raising itself above them, towering, glowing, swinging. All he has is the sword in his hand and his body but he is willing to give that. 

When the Titan curls over them, its arm destroyed it conveys its blessing to Noctis. The light rushes Noct, strikes him and his body jerks with it, head flung back, panting. 

This is holy. 

Gladiolus feels it in his body, his bones and his gut; it is more than likely they will be dead before this is over. The Titan’s blessing as lifted this from the dangerous thing it was before: two nations poised at the brink of war. Now the Six are involved, now there is no doubt: Noctis is the chosen King, selected to deliver them all. 

Gladiolus looks at him, bruised and tired and dirty and he has never been more beautiful, less broken, unbent. He wants to get down on his knees again, repeat his vows: to be the King’s Shield, to do whatever is in his power to protect him, to give his life if necessary. 

He looks at Ignis, holding himself tall, and Prompto, the only one of them to reach out and touch Noctis, hugging him close. He looks at bruised knuckles of Prompto’s hands, the dirt in his hair and swallows. This is what he didn’t want, to desire when at any moment it could be snatched away. But it’s too late now.   
\--  
The look on Prompto’s face when the black chocobo chick hatches may be the purest thing Gladio has ever seen his life and that includes the time Ignis managed perfect tartelette framboise for his mother’s birthday. 

He’s flat on the ground, face on level with the chick making faces at it. The bird looks a little inquisitive but it’s not doing much yet, just tilting its head a little from side to side. Prompto is smiling so wide his eyes have narrowed to slits, blue irises hidden behind pale lashes. Every part of him radiates joy and Gladio feels tenderness wash over him, sweet and slow. 

It makes him helpless, these feelings. He knows what to do with lust, even if it is inappropriate to feel it so sharply for your friend but it’s the gentle ones that do him in. He feels like his heart is glowing, he wants to touch Prompto’s cheek, count his freckles, press gentle kisses to his mouth. 

He also wants to suck his dick but that’s neither here nor there. 

He has spent so much time trying not to feel like this. 

When he finally looks up Noctis is looking at him, slight smile playing around his lips. 

“Hey Ignis,” he says, “we should go have a race.”

“Yes,” Ignis is also looking Gladio, definitely smirking, “let’s do that. You stay with Prompto, Gladio. I think he wants to stay with the chick.” 

They turn and almost run off, which is completely unnecessary. Gladio looks back at Prompto who hasn’t even noticed their friends have left, entranced with the chocobo. Gladio sighs and sits down on the ground next to him, crossing his long legs in front of him. 

The baby really is cute. Its feathers stick up everywhere and it’s gotten up, teetering around on its little legs. Prompto has his camera in his hands but he’s not even taking pictures, just watching the baby inquisitively explore its surroundings. 

They sit like that for a while until Prompto rolls onto his back and sits up. 

“Where’d Iggy and Noct go?” He frowns a little. 

“Racing,” Gladio says, watching the line of his mouth, wide and pink. His eyes flick up to Prompto’s, who’s looking at him. There’s an intensity in Prompto’s gaze that doesn’t seem warranted, curious and sharp. He swallows and watches Prompto’s eyes flick to that, then to his mouth and then back to his eyes. There’s a pink tinge spreading underneath his freckles and then Prompto pushes himself up, flailing gracelessly. 

“We should see if Noct has finally managed to beat Iggy,” he declares and takes off over the clearing leaving Gladio to scramble up and follow. 

Noct hasn’t, of course, but that’s not really the interesting thing.   
\--  
The Rock of Ravatogh doesn’t want them to be here. 

Gladiolus is hanging from the wall they’re scaling, muscles burning with effort. It’s sweltering but it’s not the oppressive heat of the summer sun, wrapping them in its humid grasp. No, the stone beneath him is causing this, warmth radiating up and into his hands and making his grip slippery-slick, every move closer to a fall. He doesn’t dare look down. 

It’s a stupid idea really, climbing into a volcano. The Rock of Ravatogh hasn’t actually erupted for many, many years but it would be just their luck, just their destiny, if the Ifirit chose this moment to raise himself from the lava. Gladio prays that he at least has solid ground underneath his feet when that happens. 

They haul themselves up on a ledge and turn back. From here it looks pretty and still dangerous, the steep slope and the occasional veins of lava, glowing red and bright in the slowly dimming light and underneath that all of Cleigne. Prompto snaps picture after picture; part of the reason they climbed all the way up here was to satisfy Vyv’s increasingly demanding picture requested. If they hadn’t also heard the rumor of the ancient King’s tomb tucked safely into the mountain Gladio would have vetoed the whole thing. 

There are beasts up here, on top of everything else that might kill them. Lava, falling rocks, and now vicious scorpions. Gladio sticks close to Noct, and they go on and on, up and up until the rocks open beneath them.

“Uh-oh,” Prompto says under his breath and for once Gladio agrees with his assessment. Because this, this is a nest. And if this is a nest and there are eggs then there is going to be-

The Zu comes down on them with a screech that goes through bone. There’s nowhere to hide and then it’s bearing down on them and they’re fighting. 

In a fight Gladiolus’s world narrows to three things: himself, the enemy and Noctis. Noctis has improved so much over their journey and is a melee of steel and magic on the field, warping from point to point to deal damage. Gladio tracks his movements, always ready to throw himself in front of a fatal blow. He tracks Ignis and Prompto too, but only on side. They are Crownsguard; they need to be able to take care of themselves. 

So he doesn’t see it coming. 

The Zu is on its last leg all the more vicious for it. Sharp talons flash and its beak pecks, searching to hurt. They’re gathered around its feet, hacking away and then it screeches, raises itself up and jabs. 

Prompto isn’t right beside them. Of course not, his weapon is aimed from a distance and normally that offers him some protection but this bird is large enough to throw itself forward and lunge and then its beak is tearing through skin. There are flashes of red. Prompto is screaming. 

Sharply Gladiolus is conscious of death. 

Noctis summons the Armiger to him, a whirlwind of steel and light. And from behind Gladio there is the echo of a gun and Prompto cursing. The Zu screeches, falls. Its wings spread over empty space, black and glossy except where they’re matted with blood. 

They run to Prompto. He’s holding his arm, streaked red with blood and his mouth is a grim slash in his pale face, twisted with pain. The relief slams into Gladio’s chest like a physical thing and his heart thunders in his ribcage. Every muscle in his body unlocks and he could sink to ground. Because Prompto maybe hurt but he’s alive and for a moment Gladio hadn’t been sure of that. 

Before he knows what he’s doing he opens his mouth.

“What the hell was that?” He snaps. “Why did it get you?”

There’s a moment of stillness, Prompto looking up at him, arm cradled against him, mouth slightly open.

“Gladio-” Ignis begins. 

“No!” Gladio yells. He’s right. Things like this will get them killed and that can’t happen. “That was sloppy! That nearly got him killed! He’s in the fucking Crownsguard, he should fucking act like it! Now Prompt, why did that happen?”

“I-” Prompto licks his lips, face white and strained, “I didn’t keep my guard up. Thought it was busy with you guys.”

“You can’t rely on us to keep the enemy away from you,” Gladio growls. “You need to be ready. This was sloppy.”

He’s repeating himself but he doesn’t care just waits until Prompto nods then turns and walks off into the direction they’d come from. He’d seen a good spot earlier. 

“We’re making camp. Get that fixed up.”  
\--  
Everyone is subdued while making camp. Ignis helps Prompto heal up his arm and Gladio sets up the tents by himself. All his movements are sharp and choppy. He’s still angry. It’s good to be angry, then he doesn’t have to focus on all the other things that he’s feeling. 

Eventually the tents are built and Noctis has built a fire and Ignis has started making dinner. Prompto is standing there, arm whole and unhurt. His blue eyes are wide in his pale, freckled face. He looks at Gladio and seems smaller somehow. There’s no smile on his narrow face. 

“Sorry,” he says and then turns and crawls into one of the tents. 

That hurts, sharp and clean under Gladio’s ribs. 

Ignis is frowning at him over the chicken he’s chopping. He has an opinion on this and his opinion is that Gladio is wrong. 

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d like to hit something but they’ve already killed all the daemons and beasts in this area so instead he stalks past Ignis and out onto the platform by the camp. Once he’s far enough away that he can hear them if they’re shouting but not otherwise he settles down on some rocks, back to the others and looks out at the view. 

He’s right. It was sloppy. 

Below him the Rock of Ravatogh gleams red in the low light. It almost seems to pulsate, like a giant heartbeat. The rocks under him are warm enough that even the night air doesn’t chill but it is less sweltering. The air seems to settle around him like a blanket, gentle and comforting and after along moment he manages to let out a deep breath and feel the fear still buzzing under his skin. 

The whole reason he hasn’t let himself get too into anyone these last years is so they wouldn’t have to feel this. 

“Hey Gladio.” It’s Noctis, padding up silently behind him and settling onto his own bit of rock. For a moment they are both silent, gazing at the scene below them. 

“I do know what’s going on, Gladio,” Noctis says finally and when Gladio turns to look at him his dark, slanted eyes are both amused and serious. “I’m not an idiot.”

That’s…well. Not that Gladiolus ever thought that Noctis was an idiot. Just, maybe he had hoped that the prince would be too wrapped up in his own problems to take notice of what was going on outside of him. Apparently he had overestimated Noctis self-absorption, which on the whole is probably a good thing even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. 

“You look him a lot,” Noctis says, like he’s a detective listing his observations, “like, a lot. And you take care of him. Well usually, today you sucked at that.” There’s no accusation though, just Noct’s kind smile. “Also, it’s like you’re looking for excuses to take your jacket off.”

Gladio makes a choked off noise because apparently he has been obvious. He wants to put his face in his hands but settles for crossing his arms instead. Okay, so he’s been found out. 

They sit in silence again. Noctis is good with silence, lets it warp soothingly around them. He just sits, eyes half closed and staring into the distance. It’s a familiar expression. 

“How do you do it, with Luna?” Gladio asks. 

“Mmm?” Noctis turns to him like he’s coming back from somewhere, blinking slowly. 

“How do you love her knowing that we’ll all probably die?” Gladio doesn’t exclude Luna from this. She’s the Oracle, she has her own part to play in this epic. 

“Oh,” Noctis sighs. “I try not think about it honestly. But when I do, when I have to-” he shrugs, “-it helps to have someone that I’m doing this for. I mean, I know I’m doing it for the people of Lucis but that’s so abstract. Luna and you guys…that’s something concrete you know. Something to protect.”

“I already fight to protect you,” Gladio says. 

“Well it probably doesn’t hurt to want to protect more people,” Noctis grins up from under his bangs. “It’s a bit different when you want to sleep with them.”

Gladio swats at him and Noctis evades, cackling. 

“There’s a good chance he wants you too, you know.” Noctis’s expression is kind. “I know Prompto. But yelling at him when he’s hurt? Not cool. You should apologize to him for that. And maybe like, ask him on an actual date.”

Noctis has been engaged to the woman he loves since he was eight years old and has never gone on a date in his life but he’s probably right about this.   
\--  
Ignis is in the last stages of dinner preparation when Gladio leaves Noctis sitting on the rocks and returns to the camp. He wouldn’t normally but it’s close enough to shout for help and they’ve killed everything around them. 

Ignis expression is disapproving. Neutral, because he won’t get involved unless Gladio asks him but still managing to convey that he thinks Gladio is wrong. Gladio ignores him and goes to the tent he saw Prompto disappear into. 

Prompto is laying on his back staring up into the tent. He looks up when Gladio crawls in and sits cross-legged on Noctis sleeping bag. He still looks hurt, despite the fact that Ignis healed him, all drawn-pale face and circles under his eyes but he smiles at Gladio. It’s tentative and wavers at the edges and it makes Gladio’s chest ache. 

“Sorry,” he says, “for yelling at you.”

It should probably be more elaborate than that but he’s not very good at apologies. It doesn’t seem to matter though, because Prompto’s smile becomes firmer and reaches all the way up into his eyes. The ache in Gladio’s chest gets stronger and once again he’s overwhelmed by the desire to touch Prompto, run his fingers along his face.

“It’s fine,” Prompto says, “I mean, you were right! It was sloppy! Won’t happen again.”

Gladio smiles back, can feel it reach his cheeks and his eyes and Prompto’s smile grows even brighter. They sit for a moment, letting it stretch and grow between them, then Ignis calls for dinner.   
\--  
Gladiolus likes the Vesperpool. It’s so far away from the outposts and then they leave their car behind and wander along the water’s edge and then up into the mountains. He even likes the strange jungle they enter on the off chance that the rumor about the Star of the Rogue is true. It’s sweltering and the vegetation is thick and lush, the monsters they find almost part of it. They stumble through the thickets, hacking away and the sun gets lower and lower as they walk further and further away from their camp. 

Then, though, it is all worth it because they reach a clearing and there is a pool of water and almost open sky and a place they can pitch their tent. All of them are covered in sweat and dirt and a little blood, though hopefully none of their own. 

“We should stay here tonight,” Gladio says. 

“Here?” Prompto squeaks, “With the monsters back there?”

“You wanna go back?” he asks but the whole thing has been decided already anyway because Noctis stepped up to the pool and saw that it’s full of fishes, as if they hadn’t just left the Vesperpool behind, which was also full of fishes. 

They set up camp and then Gladio strips out of his shirt and washes as much of the dirt and sweat off him as he can. He debates stripping completely and going for an actual swim and then he sees Noctis hunched at the edge of the pool, brow furrowed in concentration and decides it’s probably not worth the argument with his highness. 

Instead he steals part of the dinner that Ignis has set out for them and decides to read. Inside the tent because it’s dark and who knows what kind of bugs his reading light would attracted here. He’s just settled himself down on his sleeping bag when Prompto crawls into the tent. 

“Uh,” Prompto says and his expression is hard to make out in the low light. “Ignis wants Noctis to help him with breakfast tomorrow so he said I should sleep here?”

“Right,” Gladio wills his voice to be normal, “Cool.”

Prompto crawls onto his sleeping bag and pulls out his phone, probably to play King’s Knight. Gladio tries to go back to reading but his glance keeps sliding off the page and back to Prompto. The light is soft, only the glow from Gladio’s reading lamp and the soft flickering of the firelight outside. Prompto’s skin looks flushed, soft and golden with it. Outside the tent he can hear Ignis and Noctis packing up and making their way into their own tent. His eyes trail over the spikes of Prompto’s hair, the line of his neck. Sometimes Prompto will glance up from his phone, quick, darting glances in Gladio’s direction and of course he’s always, always looking at him. 

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and the air in the tent is thick with longing. It’s the worst kind of longing, the kind where it’s almost possible that the other person wants you too and that the heaviness in the air is not just your secret desires but theirs as well. 

Finally Gladio snaps the book shut. They need to go to sleep if they’re going to find the tomb tomorrow. He stows the book away and then freezes for a moment. He’s only wearing his pants right now and if it had been Ignis in the tent with him he would simply have slept in his underwear, the sticky heat of the tent too close around him. 

It’s not Ignis in the tent with him though, it’s Prompto and for a moment Gladio debates what’s more weird: sleeping in his underwear around Prompto or acting like sleeping around Prompto is different from sleeping around his other friends. 

Either way he has to take his pants off, so he does that first, awkwardly stripping out of the fabric in the confines of the tent. He tosses them to the side and looks up. 

Prompto is looking at him. He’s sat up so that he’s cross-legged on his sleeping bag and when Gladio catches him he instantly lowers his face to his phone. But he isn’t quick enough. Gladio catches the blush high on his cheeks. 

It- it’s too warm in the tent, the air is heavy and sticky, like a sheet on Gladio’s skin and he’s looking at Prompto and then Prompto glances up, back at him. Their eyes meet and Gladio on his side of the tent and Prompto is on his sleeping bag and there’s only a little more than a foot between them and that feels like not enough and too much at the same time. 

Gladio swallows. 

He can have what he wants. Prompto’s is blushing and his lips is parted and he’s looking up at Gladio from underneath spiky golden lashes. Neither of them is moving and it’s going on for too long, the moment stretching out between them like a rubber band, getting tighter. It’s going to snap. 

“Prompto-” Gladio doesn’t know what he’s going to say but then he doesn’t have to. He can see Prompto making a decision, the lines of his face tightening and then Prompto moves. It’s a surge, a wave, coming towards him and phone dropped to the ground and forgotten and then Prompto’s kissing him.

He thinks he makes a noise, a sound somewhere in the back of his throat like relief and then his hand is fisted in Prompto’s shirt and he’s kissing him back. Prompto’s fingers are winding themselves into Gladio’s hair, tight, insistent. Gladio opens his mouth and lets Prompto in, soft, wet, demanding. 

When they part a little Prompto’s breath is heavy and his eyes are lidded and the smile on his face is almost sharp at the corners but Gladio doesn’t let himself think about that. He doesn’t think about anything, just keeps peppering Prompto’s lips with little kisses as they maneuver themselves so that they’re spread out on Prompto’s sleeping back. 

Prompto is touching Gladio, fingers exploring the expanses of his skin, his back, his shoulder, arms. They run over his tattoo and it’s still too warm in the tent but that’s a secondary concern to Gladio’s hand under Prompto’s shirt, shifting, pulling it upward. 

He gets him out of it and then they’re kissing again. The flush from Prompto’s cheeks has spread lower, onto his neck and shoulders. He’s red and warm and golden and so beautiful Gladio has to put his mouth on him, the corner where his neck meets his shoulder, a little pressure, a little nip, and Prompto keens, his fingers stuttering on Gladio’s back. 

He likes that so he keeps kissing Prompto’s neck and lower, his chest, fingers wandering over his side and lower to the edge of his pants and over them and oh, Prompto’s hard. Gladio’s hard, dick straining against the fabric of his briefs, but that doesn’t seem nearly as important or interesting and what’s happening with Prompto so he starts working on the buckle of the belt. He does a bad job, one handed and distracted by licking Prompto’s nipple, which causes Prompto arch, but eventually he manages it. 

Gladio raises himself up, up so that his face is above Prompto’s. Prompto mouth is open and he catches him in a kiss, languid and almost slow, but Prompto brings his hands to Gladio’s face, pushes back, makes it insistent. 

“Hey,” Gladio murmurs into the breath between two kisses. “Can I blow you?”

“Yes,” Prompto hisses, “Yes, fuck, please-“

That’s all the encouragement Gladio needs and he’s working on getting Prompto’s pants off him. It’s faster with full concentration and moments later he has Prompto’s dick in his hand. It’s a nice dick and he wraps his hand around it and takes it in his mouth. 

Above him Prompto makes a noise. 

It’s a good noise and Galdio is determined to get him to make it again so he takes action, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue and generally pulling out all the stops. It seems to be working because Prompto is definitely panting, one hand slapped over his mouth to keep himself quiet the other one curling and clutching the sleeping bag beneath him. 

Gladio hums and flicks his eyes up to look at Prompto, head titled back and flushed arch of his neck exposed. He’s beautiful and Gladio made him like this, is taking him apart with his mouth. He’s always liked doing this and he likes the weight of Prompto’s dick in his mouth, the slick and wetness of it. 

He takes him deep and has to use his other arm to pin him down and keep him from arching into his mouth. He feels his own dick, hot and straining and needy but he can’t pay attention to that now, focuses on getting Prompto to come. And it seems like it’s only a few moments later that Prompto is tugging on his hair.

“Gladio, I’m- I’m gonna-” 

And Gladio pulls off and works his dick with his hand for a few strokes, spit-slicked and amazing and then Prompto’s coming, white spurts of semen going over Gladio’s fist and onto Prompto’s stomach. 

Prompto lets his hand drop to his side and he’s lying there, flushed and red and panting and Gladio can’t anymore, he can’t and he’s up on his knees, shoving his briefs down just far enough to free his dick and then he’s got a grip on himself, his hand still slicked with his spit and Prompto’s come and his pumping himself and-

It’s almost embarrassingly quick and then he can feel his orgasm building. Prompto is still panting, flush retreating slightly and he’s looking at Gladio. Gladio meets his eyes and they’re bright and blue, wide and staring and a little dazed. There are streaks of come on his stomach and Gladio really- he really wants to-

“Can,” he pants. “Can I-?”

Prompto’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips and his eyes dart from Gladio’s fact to Gladio’s dick fisted in his hand he nods. Gladio moans and then it’s only two, three ore strokes and he’s coming on Prompto, adding his come to the one already drying there. 

Gladio lets himself back onto his side of the tent. He’s panting and his dick is still hanging out but he can’t really bring himself to care, head angled towards Prompto. Everything seems soft now, the low light of the reading lamp coloring everything in amber and gold. 

After a moment Prompto shifts and pulls his bag towards him, digging through it without looking. When he can’t find whatever it is he groans and sits up, squinting at it like it’s offended him. Eventually he holds a small towel, brandishing it with something like victory. 

Gladio makes an inquiring noise and Prompto looks at him as he starts to clean himself up. 

“Getting sort of gross,” he says, then tosses it to the side and lets himself fall back onto the ground. He’s still naked and still beautiful, the whole pale expanse of his skin and wiry skinniness of his limbs. Gladio wants to touch him again but it’s too hot in the tent, muggy and heavy, so he settles for looking. Prompto looks back, looks away, looks back and eventually they fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this whole story actually started because I wanted someone to call Gladio a slutty beefcake. It kind of...took off from there. 
> 
> Also I have a tumblr under the same name! Come say hi if you feel like it!


	3. Chapter 3

Gladio wakes first and knows he has to get out of the tent. The air is unbearably thick and stale so he pulls on a shirt and drags his pants outside with him. 

Here the air is much, much better, cool and clear, almost wet. The humidity is still high but it’s not as heavy as it will be later in the day and the light is still pale and cold. There’s no sign of Ignis or Noctis or breakfast and he goes and peers into their tent. It’s empty but there is a note. ‘Back soon’ it reads

From behind him Gladio hears a noise and he turns to see Prompto climbing out of their tent. He’s dressed too, hair still unkempt from sleep. There’s something tense about his posture as he looks over the camp, apparently also seeing the lack of signs of their companions.

Gladio should worry, will worry properly in a second but in the cool, bright light of the dawn he can see Prompto’s face, make out his freckles the way he couldn’t last night so he steps up to him, touches his neck. 

For a second Prompto stiffens, then relaxes, face tilting up, mouth curling into a smile, “Hi.”

Gladio kisses him with no need or heat behind it, just kissing for the sake of kissing. The cool air feels good on his skin and Prompto’s lips are soft under his, eager and willing. Gladio cups his face, fingers his hair, still partly stiff with gel. All around them the jungle whispers, the soft noises of insects and birds and other animals and Prompto’s fingers curl around the edge of his jacket, pulling him close. 

Gladio hears Ignis and Noctis return at the same moment he feels Prompto stiffen under his fingers so he breaks the kiss and steps back from him, leaving some space between them. He doesn’t want to not be touching but it seems like the proper thing to do. 

“Oh good,” Noctis says, surveying them. His eyebrows are drawn together sharply but his mouth is pouty which means he’s grumpy but not angry. “Glad that’s finally settled.”

And he throws himself into one of the chairs, contemplating the remains of their fire with the all the gloom of the world settling around him. 

“Where were you?” Gladio asks. “I was worried about you.”

“Yes,” Ignis says drily, “we could see that.”

There’s dirt on Ignis face and his glasses look way more smudged than he would usually let them get but neither of them seems to be harmed at all. Prompto has stepped away from Gladio and towards Noctis, hovering at the Prince’s side. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Noctis says, casting them dark looks which means it was most definitely their fault, “And then I had to get up early. And then a chocobo stole Iggy’s glasses and I had to sneak up on it while he distracted it with food.”

“A chocobo?” Prompto looks delighted, face lighting up as if they hadn’t left their own Chocobos right outside the jungle. 

“You don’t get it,” Noctis says, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “Today is a terrible day.”

Gladio, looking at Prompto, can’t find it in himself to agree.  
\--  
They camp at the Vannath Coast. It’s a nice space, tucked up along the coast of Cleigne with sharp rocks jutting out into the sea, deep and blue and grey. The waves slap the rocks, the spray flecking the air. Gladio finishes putting out the sleeping bags and surveys the area. Noct and Ignis are over on one of the rocks trying to fish some dinner. Judging from the way Noctis is struggling with the line there’s some big ones here. They’ll be at it for a while. 

He can’t see Prompto, who had wandered off with his camera a little while ago, so Gladio decides to go find him. The stones are uneven underneath him and he can see little crabs scuttling back into the cracks in the rocks as he walks past them. 

Prompto is just around the corner, out of view thanks to the curve of the rock they decided to make their camp on. He seems to be deeply absorbed in something on his camera, squinting at the display and pushing buttons, so Gladio sneaks up behind him and wraps an arm around Prompto’s waist and pulls him into his chest, tucking his head up against his shoulder. 

For a moment Prompto startles and does a quick right-left twitch of his head, as if checking if anyone else is around. Gladio has noticed him doing that ever since they left the Vesperpool so he’d checked, no one can see them from here. He figures Prompto wants to keep the public affection to a minimum in front of their friends, which he’s fine with but he’s also fine with pulling Prompto up against his wide chest, hugging him there and keeping him close. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

Prompto has relaxed into him after his cursory look out. He’s leaning on Gladio, letting him carry some of his weight. It’s nice. “I’m trying to figure out the settings for this light.”

In front of them is ocean, much wilder here than it was at Galdin. It drops straight off into the deep end and the air around them is cool and salty, a breeze from the ocean tugging at their hair and clothing. Above them the sun is high in the sky, occasionally even breaking through the cloud cover but it seems cooler too, the light crisper. 

Gladio has found a slip of Prompto’s skin with his fingers, just above his belt. He runs his fingers over it, the smooth skin and hard muscles. He likes this and likes the way Prompto jerks a little and wiggles, pushing himself back into Gladio. 

“Hey!” he says. 

Gladio only grins and bends his head to kiss Prompto’s neck. He’s rewarded with shivering, especially when he adds a few teeth because he figured out early that Prompto really, really likes this. After a moment he stops and chuckles a little, right next to Prompto’s ear. He relaxes, let’s them just stand there, warm bodies pressed against each other. 

Apparently this is was Prompto was waiting for because he twists out Gladio’s hold and turns, catching his hair with one hand holding him still while he kisses him. It’s an intense kiss, all needy and breathy, a nip of teeth at his lower lip and then Prompto pulls back. 

“Later okay?” He says and kisses Gladio one more time before pulling away and scrambling across the rocks towards the sound of Noctis and Ignis yelling at the fish.  
\--  
They’re still on the hunt for the weapons and sometimes a rumor pans out. Sometimes it pans out and they descended into the depths of daemons lair and it feels likes you’ll never see the sun again, like it will always be you and your friends and the high walls and the daemons trying to kill you.

Finally, finally they are out of Costlemark Tower. 

„Sunlight!” Prompto exclaims and lets himself fall to his knees on the grass, face tilted upward towards the sun. 

The chocobos are still waiting for them. Gladiolus’s bird stalks over to him, tilting its head and looking at him inquisitively. He leans against her, grateful for the warm, solid body to hold him up. They’re all covered in dirt and blood and dust and have barely slept for the last four days, always on the lookout for things trying to kill them.

„Right,” Noctis says. There’s a smudge on face right next to his nose. Form where he’s standing Gladio can’t tell if it’s mud or demon blood. Noctis rubs at it, smudging it further. “Ignis, how much gil do we have?”

Gladiolus is pretty sure there’s blood in his boot. He doesn’t know if it’s because the blood soaked through or because at one point the leather started chafing and he’s bleeding. He leans a bit more against his Chocobo, feels her press her weight against him as he watches Ignis’s tired face, eyes closed to calculate. 

“Including the treasure we collected and the fact that we need to replenish all our healing supplies,” Ignis says finally, “we should have about 80000 gil.”

Noctis nods slowly, then drags a hand over his face. “Okay. Cool. Executive princely decision: we’re going to Galdin Quay and we’re going on vacation. Three nights, in the actual hotel. Food in the hotel. Swimming, fishing, whatever.”

Prompto makes a noise between a whoop and groan, tipping himself forward until he’s lying with his cheek in the dirt. “Fuck yeah Noct, best prince ever!”

Making their way back to the Regalia is hell, though they mostly let the chocobos carry them at a slow walk. All of them hurt, from wounds they didn’t have enough potions to heal any more and more than once they have to run from wild animals roaming the area. 

It gets better when they reach the car. They each take a potion and there are some rags they can use to wipe off the worst of the dirt. Ignis pops a stimulant as he takes his place behind the wheel. Prompto slides in next to Gladio, touching their knees together and then Gladio leans into the corner of the car and lets the movement of it lull him to sleep despite the sun burning down bright and hot above them. 

He wakes when they slide into the parking spot in front of the hotel. Ignis still looks almost perky, even if the circles under his eyes look ground into his skin. They make their way up the long quay, walking along in silence with each heavy thump of their boots on the wood. Occasionally one of the visitors will look at them to closely and then skirt out of their way. 

Finally they’re there, wave at Coctura and then rent their rooms. 

Gladio snatches the first key and then traipses along the hallway and into the room. He leaves the door unlocked and heads straight for the bathroom, stripping off and getting into the shower. He’s still bone tired and watches in silence as the mud and blood slough off him, dirty water gathering around the drain. He washes his hair, and his skin and finally he slips back into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

The shades have been lowered and Prompto is sleeping on the left side of the bed. He’s put on clean clothes at least, but Gladio can see the left over smudges on his skin. He looks at him as he pulls on clean underwear and a shirt- Prompto’s face is slack with sleep, eyelids flittering, hands shoved under his pillow. Gladio slides into the bed next to him. It’s comfortable and warm and he falls asleep. 

The shower is running when Gladio wakes up. He stays in the bed, pressed into the soft sheets and tries to figure out what time it is. He slept well but the exhaustion is still there, not quite as pronounced but still in his core. The sound of the shower is soothing, he can hear Prompto occasionally, cursing or singing or just talking out loud. 

It’s actually the first time they’ve shared a room. Usually when they take double rooms like this they split Noctis-Prompto and Gladiolus-Ignis. Since the Vesperpool it’s been mostly tents for them, with the occasional caravan thrown in, where all four of them are packed into one sleeping space. It gives Gladio an odd lurch to know that this is space he’s sharing just with Prompto, space where their friends can’t easily overhear them. For a moment he debates joining Prompto in the bathroom, then he realizes how hungry he is. 

Ignis is at the breakfast bar when Gladio sits down next to him. There’s a bowl of fruit in front of him and Ignis pops a piece of banana between his lips. 

“Sleep well?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Gladio answers warily. He waits for it, the inevitable teasing he knows Ignis has in store for him. 

But Ignis is merciful and remains silent, only the grin spreading over his face as he eats half a strawberry lets Gladio know he’s not safe yet. 

Noctis sits down across from them, looking unusually bright eyed for a morning. He’s wearing a white shirt and a cap; it makes him look younger though he still moves with all of his usual morning awareness as he takes his breakfast. 

Eventually Prompto joins them too, bounding up dressed in swim trunks and a white t-shirt.

“We should go swimming,” he announces as he takes two slices of pineapple from the breakfast bar. 

The rest of them are done with their breakfast so that’s what they do. The shock of the water seems to wake Noctis up properly, especially after Prompto swims up behind him and jerks his feet out underneath him and he gets out mouth full of salt water. 

Prompto comes up crackling, throwing his head back to get his stupid hair out of his eyes and Gladio takes advantage of his distraction to dunk him back into the water. It turns into a full out war after that and if Gladio takes advantage and lets his hands wander over Prompto’s pale, slick skin well then who can really blame him. 

Afterwards they sit on the beach and enjoy the sunlight. It’s at it usual Gladin Quay brightness, already warming up everything around them. Gladio sits cross legged on his towel, looking at Prompto who is still toweling himself dry. 

“I think I’m gonna go fishing,” Noctis says, squinting into the sunlight. He swings his towel over his shoulder and marches off in the direction of the dock. 

They’re on vacation and at Galdin Quay, but there are protocols-

“Someone needs to go with him,” Gladio says. 

Prompto looks at Gladio. Gladio looks at Prompto, then he looks at Ignis. Ignis crosses his arms, and looks back, unperturbed by the fact that Gladio is trying to tell him to go. 

“I’ll do it.” Prompto takes off after Noctis, already halfway to his destination. Gladio frowns at his friend who better have a good reason for depriving him of the chance to make out with Prompto. 

“So,” Ignis says, letting himself fall onto the sand next to Gladiolus, “do tell me: how are things between you and Prompto?” 

Contrary to appearances Ignis is a shit. 

“Because it looks to me like you don’t just want to sleep with him,” Ignis continues.

A ruthless, conniving snake of a man.

“In fact it rather looks like you want to, oh I don’t know…shower his face with kisses? Hold his hand in the back of the Regalia? Make sweet, passionate love on silk sheets?”

“Ignis I swear I will murder you,” Gladio growls.

Ignis smirks. “You can try.”

He shouldn’t rise to the bait so easily but physically fighting Ignis is probably preferable to whatever Ignis is going to say next so Gladio goes for it.  
\--  
The masseur is working out a kink in Gladiolus’s back when Prompto walks up to him. He’s put his t-shirt back on and is holding an ice cream cone. 

“So Ignis beat you, huh?” He seems absurdly cheerful, smile at full force.

“Ignis cheats,” Gladio says because that’s what you call it when a man who is supposed to be your friend sticks you with a poisoned spear and then refuses to give you the antidote until you answer his questions. 

“Mhm,” Prompto says, grin tucked behind his ice cream. Gladio follows his tongue as it darts out to lick at it. Prompto is eyeing him, stretched out naked on the masseurs table. Oh, his ass is covered by a sheet but there’s a lot on display and Prompto lets his eyes roam over it. There’s a certain heat behind them and his tongue darts out again. 

“You almost done?” he asks.

Gladiolus glances at the masseur who steps back and hands him a robe, discreetly averting his eyes as Gladio slips into it. Prompto doesn’t, keeps looking and eating his ice cream and when Gladio steps up to him he tilts his head back and the kiss is languid and slow, though over too soon. 

“Come on,” Prompto says as he turns around and saunters over the deck, “let’s go back to our room.”

The ice cream is gone by the time the door closes behind them but Prompto’s mouth is sticky-sweet with it and his kisses are hungry, walking them backwards to the bed. He stops when the backs of his knees hit the mattress. 

Prompto’s hands are at the front of Gladio’s robe, tugging the belt loose and pushing it off his shoulders. Gladio helps, shrugs the fabric off his shoulders and gets his hands free. Prompto’s hands are already on his stomach, running appreciatively along the lines of his abs. Gladio flexes and little and Prompto sucks in a breath, smiling in delight. It makes Gladio want to kiss him again so he does, all languid and intense, tongues twisting around each other. 

He can feel his cock growing hard and it seems unfair that he’s standing here naked while Prompto still has his clothes on so he breaks the kiss and pulls away. 

“You should take these off,” he says, tapping Prompto’s chest. 

He throws himself on the bed and lays on his back, watching Prompto strip out of his clothes. There’s no artistry to it. Prompto just yanks off the T-shirt and drops it to the floor then shimmies out of the swim trunks. He doesn’t have anything on underneath anyway and his cock is hard too, straight and flushed against his stomach. 

Gladio grins and Prompto crawls onto the bed and over him, straddling him. They kiss again, hotter and more intense. Gladio lets his hands wander over Prompto’s smooth skin and feels him shudder underneath him, the flush from his skin spreading out over his shoulders already. There’s actual light in the hotel room, the air around them cool and clean, and Gladio can see the smatters of delicate freckles spread over the rest of Prompto’s body but when he wants to lean up to put his mouth on the Prompto pushes him back down. 

“No,” he says, “stay down.”

Which, okay, Gladio is willing to do that. He’s content let Prompto bend down and starts sucking on his neck, right where it meets the shoulder. He bites once and it’s a shock of pleasure straight through him, Gladio gasps and jerks and Prompto shifts his weight to keep him down. 

He feels hot now and the pull of his cock is insistent, straining and heavy. He wants someone to touch it, doesn’t really care if it’s him or Prompto. There’s sweat beading on Prompto’s face as he raises his head to kiss Gladio again. Gladio has his hands on Prompto’s thighs, feels the bunched muscles there and runs his hands over them, digging his fingers into it. 

“I did some shopping,” Prompto says between kisses. He’s a little raspy as Gladio lets his hand wander higher and curl around his cock, pulling once, twice. “If- ah! If you wanted to fuck me.”

And Gladio feels his breath leave him because yeah, he’s up for that, he’d be into that. He can only nod dumbly. 

So Prompto lifts himself onto his knees and reaches under the pillow on the other side of the bed, producing condoms and lube. The condom he tosses onto Gladio’s chest, the lube he pops open and slicks his fingers with. He reaches behind him, eyes fluttering closed, teeth biting his lips and Gladio is going to die. He’s going to die watching Prompto open himself, his jerking helplessly, trying to find some friction for his cock. 

Prompto opens one of his eyes and grins down at him. His hair is plastered to his face with sweat and all it’s just a glint of blue. 

“Come on, Gladio,” he says and his voice catches, “get with the program.”

So Gladio grabs the condom, hands shaking just a little bit and tears it open. He grabs the lube and manages to role it onto himself without really seeing anything, slicking himself up still watching Prompto’s face, head tipped back and panting opened mouthed by now, fucking himself on his own fingers. 

Finally, finally they’re ready and Prompto lines himself up with Gladio’s dick, one hand out to steady himself. Gladio has one hand around himself and the other on Prompto’s waist, trying to guide him. It takes a moment but then it’s happening, Prompto is opening up around him, taking him and they’re both moaning. 

It’s hot and tight and Prompto sinks himself down on Gladio slowly, rocking his hips a little. His mouth is open, making helpless little sounds and it’s all Gladio can do to keep himself still, fingers rubbing soothing circles just above Prompto’s leg. 

Finally Prompto is settled on him. He leans forward to kiss Gladio and they both moan into a little and then they’re fucking, Prompto lifting himself up and down, Gladio rising to meet the motion. It’s so hot and tight Gladio doesn’t know if he can breathe, it’s all breathless panting and oh-oh-oh. 

At one point he gets his hand around Prompto’s cock, jerking him as he rides him. Prompto’s head is tipped back, eyes closed mouth open. The flush has spread all the way down his chest and he’s so beautiful Gladio’s entranced for a moment, has to make sure his rhythm doesn’t falter. He’s close now, spewing nonsense that’s mostly Prompto’s name and he thinks Prompto is too, if the way he’s speeding up is anything to go, pushing his cock into Gladio’s hand. 

It only takes a little longer and a few moments later he can feel it coming, that inevitable crest and he surges up to meet Prompto, pleasure flooding out into his body. He keeps his hand wrapped around Prompto, jerks his cock three-four more times, then Prompto is coming with a gasp, semen spilling all over Gladio’s hand. 

Prompto pitches forward then, head resting somewhere on Gladio’s collarbone. They are both sweaty and sticky and panting but for a moment it’s good to just lay there. Gladio runs a hand down Prompto’s back, almost soothingly and they wait until their breathing starts to even out. 

Unfortunately Gladio actually has to clean himself up a little bit so after a few moments of just lying there he nudges Prompto to the side, spilling him onto the other side of the bed. 

“Hmpf,” Prompto says as he rolls over. He comes to rest on his back, blue eyes peeking up at Gladio from between his lashes, clumped together with sweat. Gladio feels his chest welling with fondness as he looks at him and he grins a little before he makes his way into the bathroom. 

There he tosses the condom into the trash and washes his hand. He looks wrecked in the mirror, hair sticking up at all angles but he also has this dopey look on his face, eyes and smile soft. 

When he gets back out to the room Prompto has curled in on himself on his side of the bed, sheet pulled over him. His breathing is even and Gladio would like to cuddle up behind him, wrap himself around Prompto and pull him close but they’ve never actually done that before and he’s not sure if Prompto would like it or if it would just disturb his sleep. So he lets it go, slips into the other side of the bed and pulls the sheet around him. He turns so he’s looking at Prompto, the curve of his shoulders and back and the delicate hairs at the nape of his neck. He falls asleep slowly.  
\--  
They take the ferry from Galdin Quay eventually. Noctis is quiet. He sits at the back of the ship and watches as the coast disappears from view. Around the sea air whips, a steady breeze caused by their steady passage through the waves. It cools them despite the heat of the sun, the occasional fleck of sea water hitting their skin as they stand on deck. 

They have most of the old King’s weapons. All of them, probably, at least all of the ones they’ve heard. Maybe there are some out there still, lost to legend. Gladio wouldn’t be surprised, Noctis is the 113th in the line of Lucis after all. They won’t find them though, not in the time they have left. They’ve combed so much of the continent, more than Gladio had thought possible when they first started this journey but their two months are almost over. If they haven’t found them yet then they won’t find them in the next couple of days. 

Noctis’s eyes are almost closed, just glints of blue peeking out through his dark lashes. His shoulders are hunched and he curls in on himself as he watches Lucis disappear in the distance and for the first time it strikes Gladio that the next time they set foot on that earth is won’t be Lucis anymore, but Niflheim. 

“We’ll get it back,” he says to Noct, getting up. 

Noctis doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at the land that he’s been asked to sacrifice. For the peace, maybe for Luna a little bit. Gladio pats him on the shoulder, a little awkward and steps away. He walks with swaying steps along the deck. 

He finds Prompto on the other side of the deck. He’s leaning on the railing with his arms and looking up at the skin, watching the gulls swoop down and around them. The sun is catching on strands of his hair, making them glow golden. There’s a soft feeling in Gladio’s chest at the sight, warm and almost tender and he wants to hold on to that, so at odds with the loss he’s just seen on Noctis’s face. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he says as he leans against the railing with his back, facing Prompto. 

There’s an expression on Prompto’s face that he can’t quite read, a tension around his nose and a flex of his mouth and then it relaxes into stillness, a neutral setting of his mouth and quiet eyes. 

“No,” he says, “No nicknames, please.”

“Okay,” Gladio says because if Prompto doesn’t want it then he won’t but he reaches out and touches Prompto, wraps his hand around Prompto’s elbow and lets his thumb brush against the skin there. It’s a soft drag, just two, three sweeps and then he removes it again.

It’s only a couple of hours until they’ll be in Altissia.  
\--  
“Wow this place is so romantic,” Prompto says, leaning out over the balustrade to peer at the gondolas passing below them. 

“And you get to enjoy it with all three of us,” Noctis says, “and well, Gladio in particular.”

“You are a lucky man,” Ignis comments and there’s a round of chuckles but something about Prompto’s expression is off, a little guarded, a little unhappy. 

Maybe Gladio should actually take him on a real date. 

The more he thinks about it the better the idea seems. He hasn’t actually had the chance to take Prompto out somewhere nice, the way he would have if they were still in Crown City. They got into Altissia a few days before Princess Lunafreya is due to arrive, so there’s still time. 

He talks to the clerks in the hotel and makes some reservations and then goes to tell Prompto.

Prompto is in the hotel room, sitting on their bed with his legs crossed and playing King’s Knight on his phone. There’s a frown on his face as his fingers move across the screen. Gladio lets himself flop across the bed, watching Prompto’s face until he can tell from the frustrated growl that the round is over and Prompto lost.

“Hey I got a reservation for us at the Maagho,” he says. 

Prompto’s head snaps up from his phone and the frown doesn’t ease. If anything it deepens and there’s a tiredness around the eyes, like the skin is being worn thin. 

“I thought it would be nice to get dinner,” Gladio ventures, “Just the two of us.”

“Right,” Prompto says but that’s off too. He doesn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio asks.

“You know you don’t actually have to do this,” Prompto tells him, “Pretend you want to be my boyfriend. I’ll still sleep with you.”

Clearly there is something he is missing here because Gladio has never felt so out of step with a conversation in his life. “What?” 

“Oh come on Gladio!” Prompto’s voice is sharp, “Everyone knows you don’t do relationships. It’s not like I’m expecting anything! But I’d really prefer it if you didn’t do shit like this.”

That…hurts. Because for all that it’s worth Gladio had thought, until right up until that moment, that Prompto was, for all intents and purposes, his boyfriend. True neither of them had actually said the words but Gladio was pretty sure he had been obvious. Iggy certainly seemed to think so, so now he’s left speechless in the face of this accusation, unable to formulate the correct response to Prompto’s accusation. 

For too long apparently because Prompto growls in frustration, face furrowed in anger now and he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

For a moment Gladio remains frozen the way he was, stretched out across the bed with a gondolier singing on the canal outside his window. Then he gets up and does the only sensible thing: he goes to talk to Ignis.

“Why does Prompto think he’s not my boyfriend?” he asks without preamble.

Noctis is lying the wrong way around on the bed, socked feet on the pillow and phone propped up in his slender hands. Ignis is sitting in one of the chairs by the window, carefully noting something down in his small, black notebook. They both look up as he storms in without bothering to knock.

Ignis frowns at him, “Explain.”

Gladiolus runs a hand through his hair in frustration, “I was trying to take him out on a date. Told him I made reservations for us at the Maagho and he got mad and said I didn’t need to pretend I wanted to be his boyfriend, he’d still fuck me anyway.”

“And you said?” Ignis prompts. 

“Nothin’!” Gladio growls, “I was trying to figure out what the hell he meant since, you know, I kinda thought I was his boyfriend. And then he said he knew I didn’t do relationships and he’d prefer I didn’t do this and left!”

“Ah,” Ignis says, “Well. I did tell you you needed to be clear with him.”

“That was because you thought all I wanted to do was bend him over and have my way with him,” Gladio says and Noctis makes a face like he really would have preferred not to hear those words but at the moment Gladio really doesn’t give a damn about his whininess feelings. 

“True,” Ignis says, “But the point still stands. Prompto has apparently convinced himself that since you never showed an interest in a steady relationship with anyone before you must also not be interested in a relationship with him. How he can be so blind to miss the hearts in your eyes basically every time you look at him I do not know, but there you are.”

“He’s really insecure,” Noctis says, “I know he doesn’t show it but it’s true. Just talk to him and tell him you want to be his boyfriend. Maybe mention how hot you think his is.” He makes a little grimace, then smirks. 

“He ran away,” Gladio reminds him, “I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

“Right,” Ignis sighs and adjust his glasses, “We’ll help. The Maagho you said? At what time?”

“Seven.”

Ignis takes a moment to think, “Alright. Be there a quarter of an hour late. Noctis, go find Prompto and tell him I need to speak to him.”

Noctis sighs but he rolls of the bed and slips into his shoes. He gives Gladio a quick clap on the arm as he passes him, smiling bright and clear from underneath his dark bangs, “we’ll fix it big guy.”  
\--  
Gladiolus arrives at the Maagho exactly at 7:15. The gondolier pulls up to the platform, which at this part of the evening is full of low lights, giving everything a soft golden glow. He spots Ignis and Prompto tucked into a table at one corner. Prompto is sitting with his back to Gladio but Ignis sees him. He says something to Prompto, who nods, then gets up and strides up to Gladio. 

“I’ll take your gondola,” Ignis says, then pauses. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Gladio says and means it. 

Prompto is sitting at a small table tucked into a discreet corner. There’s a red-checked tablecloth and a two small glasses of wine. He looks up when Gladio slides into Ignis’s abandoned seat. He looks pale and a little raw but his mouth sets in a firm line. There’s a little ache in Gladio’s chest, not in his heart but deeper, almost outside of him again. 

“Listen I don’t want to argue-“

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Gladio interrupts him and his heart is picking up speed in his chest. The beat is steady against his ribcage and he can feel it in him, fluttering at his throat and his temple.

Prompto’s face shutters, “oh? 

“Tell the truth, I kinda thought I was your boyfriend already,” Gladio leans forward. Prompto won’t look at him, eyes shifting from his face to the table to the rest of the restaurant and back again. He swallows. 

“That’s not you though. It’s not what you do.”

Gladio makes a little growl in his throat in his frustration. Prompto’s eyes do flick to him now. His lashes are pale and spiky around the bright blue of his eyes. 

“I want to,” Gladio says, “with you.” 

He doesn’t want to explain, about the feelings that sit in his chest, pooling and expansive and tender and gentle. He doesn’t think he can, how Prompto is so beautiful but also clever and quick and brave and that maybe he loves him. Prompto doesn’t even believe he wants to take him out on dates, there’s no way he’s going to believe that. 

Maybe it shows in his face though because as Prompto studies him his features go softer and then one corner of his mouth tilts up in the beginning of a smile. It trembles a little, unsteady at the edges but it’s there. 

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” Gladio nods and something in chest opens and relief washes over him, sweeping and wild. 

As if summoned the waiter appears at their table and brings the food that Ignis and Prompto apparently already ordered. It takes a moment for them to get organized and the waiter to clear off again. Gladio’s plate is full of some sort of pasta, which, whatever. He trusts Iggy. When he looks up at Prompto again Prompto’s smile has settled. 

“So was this dinner the only thing you had planned for tonight?” he asks as he spears a shrimp off his plate. 

“No,” Gladio says and then pauses for a beat because when he does things he does them properly, “Moonlight gondola ride.”

Prompto laughs at him, full throated and dipped in gold.  
\--  
The first secretary of Altissia, Camelia Claustra, marries Lunfreya Nox Fleuret and Noctis Lucis Caelum in a grand ceremony completing the terms of the already signed treaty and thereby turning the lands of Lucis over to the Empire of Niflheim. 

It is a political wedding. There’s no way to forget it, not with Chancellor Ardyn Izuna himself present, smiling sly and smooth, an undertone of mockery in his voice as he presents Noctis and Luna with their wedding gift, a single coin on a red satin pillow. There are other members of the Niflheim Army there, most prominently Luna’s own brother Ravus, face hard and unsmiling. King Regis is not present for his son’s wedding, having to stay behind to protect the Crown City. 

But. 

Noctis smiles so wide as he leads Luna onto the dancefloor for the first dance, her fingers caught gently in his gloved hand and she rests her head gently on his shoulder as they sway to the music together. He looks happier than Gladio has ever seen him look, all traces of sullenness erased from his features and Luna’s smile is so small and gentle and radiant. 

Standing beside Gladio at the side of the dancefloor Prompto is silently, openly weeping. The tears clump in his eyelashes and trail down to the corner of his mouth. Even Iggy’s expression is a little shaky. 

Gladio smiles and wraps his hand around Prompto’s elbow, pulling him close. Prompto steps over to him, tucking himself into Gladio’s side and Gladio bends down to kiss him, just for a second. Prompto returns the kiss and when they part he’s smiling, only a few tears still gathered in his eyes. 

Of course, this is the moment Iris choose to appear next to them. She arrived with the contingent of Crownsguard tasked with actually keeping Noctis safe during the wedding ceremony, having apparently nagged their father into giving her permission to attend the wedding. 

“Really?” she asks, wrinkling her nose at them. “You?”

At his side Prompto tenses up and Gladio tightens the arm he still has wrapped around him. She’s just his kid sister, looking very pretty in a blue dress trimmed with gold. He can handle her. 

“Iris…” he growls. 

She laughs at him. “That’s all you’ve got?” Her glance turns sympathetic and she reaches out and pats Prompto’s arm. “You can do much better. He’s only got about half a brain.”

Ignis speaks up before Gladio can respond. “Iris, would you like to dance?”

Her face lights up in delight and they join Luna and Noctis on the dancefloor for the second dance. Prompto stays by Gladio’s side, the warmth of their bodies seeping into each other through the fine fabric of their suits. It’s comforting and secure, 

“I think I’ve done pretty well for myself,” Prompto says eventually. He turns to look up at Gladio and he’s so beautiful, all pink lips and pale skin and Gladio wants to kiss him again. He does and Prompto lets him, opens his mouth to it and gives in and maybe Noctis is the happiest he’s ever been but Gladio is pretty sure that he is too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's it. Hope you enjoyed it?
> 
> I'm currently also working on an Ignis/Gladio fic so maybe I'll see you then? And, you know, come say hi on tumblr if you feel like it ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> All I wanted is for everyone to have five minutes where they are really, really happy, Noctis included.


End file.
